


.dress

by sanchan06



Category: Let's Play (Webcomic)
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Partial Nudity, Party, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25998190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanchan06/pseuds/sanchan06
Summary: Young and Jones show up at a party. Flirty shenanigans ensue. [inspired by 'Dress' from T-Swizz]
Relationships: Charles Jones/Sam Young (Let's Play)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	.dress

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s note:
> 
> Carry on is a very British saying. Also this is the first (possible the last) steamy fic I’ve written. It took a long while to figure it out but here it is ( ` ._.’)

===============================  
_Our secret moments in a crowded room_  
===============================

Steady breaths, steady breaths, Sam chanted to herself as the limo pulled up to the museum, careful not to wipe her damp palms against the borrowed dress, layers of midnight pooled around her feet. She had texted Charles she would be running late and would meet him at tonight’s gala honoring some of the most prominent businesses and their contributions to the community including Young Industries. It was an opportunity to dress up, mingle, and ultimately, network and make crucial connections for the family business to continue its current trajectory.

Sam was nervous of course at the prospect of forced interaction. She had improved somewhat under Charles’ tutelage, gaining enough confidence to hold her own amongst her peers. But no, the true source of her nervous energy stood at the bottom of the stairs in the sunken ballroom, dressed in a bespoke suit and navy bowtie. To this day, he was still one of the most beautiful creatures she had ever seen, alabaster skin, jeweled eyes and a form putting the nearby statues to shame. As Sam began to descend the steps, Charles glanced up, almost as if he was suddenly aware of her presence, his gaze locked with hers.

===============================  
_They got no idea, about me and you_  
===============================

Charles was making polite conversation with a potential investor, idly wondering the quickest way from midtown to the museum, when he felt a jolt, a shiver up his spine, causing him to look about the room for the disturbance. And then he saw it, waves of silk cascading around shapely legs, the fabric seemingly molded against her, accentuating every curve of her body. An oasis of blue approaching him as Charles’ throat suddenly dried, a deep knot raveling in his belly. 

He politely excused himself and walked up the steps, meeting Samara halfway when he offered his hand, her fingertips settling in his palm. “Good Evening Ms. Young,” Charles greeted, bringing his lips to the back of her hand.

===============================  
_There is an indentation in the shape of you_  
===============================

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Sam apologized, Charles’ lips barely grazing her knuckles, whisper-soft compared to the flash in his azure eyes. A look that could be interpreted as a threat. Or a promise. “Did I keep you waiting long?”

“Just enough,” Charles tucked her hand under his arm and led her down the stairs. “But it was worth it, _annwyl_ ,” His voice low enough just for Sam, his lips nearly brushed against her ear, warm breaths against the sensitive skin, little trembles down her spine at the almost-contact, trying to maintain her composure as they approached their assigned table.

===============================  
_Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo_  
===============================

The night continued with three-course meals, awards presentations, and local entertainment coinciding with the circus-themed gala along with collusions, collaborations, and arraignments plied with sparkling champagne and conversation. Just another way of doing business, Charles once told Samara during one of their morning carpools as part of their daily lessons navigating through the technology industry. He could see how his tutelage was paying off as he watched Samara weave in and out of conversations while admiring the museum exhibits or interacting with the guests seated at their table, admiring her growing confidence. She was now speaking to a man with auburn hair whose name he couldn’t quite place other than a design company growing in recent popularity. Perhaps a little too well, Charles found himself mildly irked at the other man’s nearly gaping expression, standing so close their shoulders nearly touched in attempt to hear each other over the din of the crowd, while Samara continued animatedly discussing a show they had mutual interest in. 

As the band began to play an inviting waltz, Charles strode over to Samara, his hand nearly encircling her waist. “I’d hate to interrupt,” his fingertips applying gentle pressure to her hip, while his palm hovered just so above the small of her back, nearly touching the exposed skin. “But I believe I owe Ms. Young a dance, please excuse us.” Charles politely apologized, nearly whisking Samara onto the dance floor, skillfully turning her as he readjusted his lower hand by her hip and held up the other in proper position.

===============================  
_All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation_  
===============================

Sam looked up at Charles’s stoic features, resting her hand on his shoulder while the other was soundly gripped in his. They moved in unison, steps memorized and practiced as Charles led them around the room. “If you’re not too careful Mr. Jones,” she smiled at the palm now firmly settled against her waist, fingertips splayed across bare skin, “One might accuse you of being jealous.”

Dipping her low, Charles pulled her upright, their bodies inching closer. “As proud as I am of your progress, Ms. Young, I sensed you needed a reprieve from the man ogling at you so blatantly.” Charles gazed down at the woman in his arms, more brilliant and dazzling than the sapphires resting across her collarbone. “Although, I hate to admit, I cannot fault him.”

===============================  
_My hands are shaking from holding back from you (ah, ah, ah)_  
===============================

“Really?” A smile slipped past Samara’s attempt at a neutral expression. “You’re proud of me?” 

“Of course. Look how far you’ve come” Charles assured her, their steps matching the slowing rhythm of the live band. “Coming to a large gathering, entertaining and charming guests.” He remembered when she first started as his assistant struggling with power poses and self-affirmations, preferring to cower behind cubicles than be in the spotlight, captivating all within her orbit. “Which is to be expected when you have an excellent teacher.” He spun Sam once before bringing her back into his embrace. “My only criticism,” Charles had somehow maneuvered them behind a column, hidden away from direct view, nearly pinning her against the marble stone. He tilted his head, strands of glossed back air falling across his face, his forehead gently brushing hers, eyes dark and fierce. And wanting. A look that was only hers. “Is how much I dislike knowing others being able to see so much of you.” 

===============================  
_Say my name and everything just stops_  
===============================

Sam shuddered at the abrupt contrast between the cool stone on her skin and the warmth radiating from his body. She could see scattered flecks of gold and green in his blue eyes, his breath warm against her cheek. “And do you like what you see, Charles?” She whispered in reply, his lips just moments away from hers. But she remained as she was, still, wanting, waiting, determination fixed in her gaze as if almost daring him to take the first step. 

Fingertips traced the outline of her jaw, the other trailed up her waist pausing right below the swell of her breast. An involuntary gasp escaped, his thumb drew teasing circles around the sensitive mound encased in silk, immediately silenced with his other thumb pressed against her lips while resisting the urge to lean into his touch. And failing miserably.

===============================  
_I don’t want you like a best friend_  
===============================

Like? Like was an understatement. Like barely covered the depth of the emotions he felt. It was completely irrational, this fixed need to nurture and shield her, a woman of her own volition who had every right to do as she pleased, who deserved to be seen by the entire world for the kind, incredible and brilliant individual she was. A woman he had no claim to. But Charles couldn’t help but practically thrum with satisfaction watching Samara respond to his touch. His. A dark thrill spread, unraveling the knot in his belly, when her lips wrapped around the tip of his thumb, sucking lightly on the digit before releasing it with an audible pop. 

Charles had tried to maintain a semi-respectful distance throughout the evening so as not to draw immediate attention to himself and Samara. Attention and questions neither were prepared to answer. But seeing her body languidly wrapped in silk, highlighting every part of her he desperately wanted to touch, to see if her skin was as cool as the midnight blue that covered it, his resolve rapidly dwindled. Watching that other man brazenly, openly, look at her without agenda, without pretense, the way he wanted to, was the last straw. 

He gently kissed her cheek, lips trailing up to her earlobe and nipped the soft skin, lightly grazing it between his teeth. “What do you think, Samara?” his voice low, feeling her tremble beneath him, continuing to tease the sensitive spots he knew so well.

===============================  
_Only bought this dress so you could take it off_  
===============================

That damned tongue, Sam mentally cursed as Charles continued to trace the outline of her ear, knocking out all of her sensitive spots. She struggled not to cry out, not wanting to catch the attention of the other guests. Not wanting to be disturbed. Charles’ hands regrettably moved away and settled against her hips, firmly holding her against the column while somehow maintaining an invisible line between their bodies. 

Sam’s fingers slipped into his waistband and pulled him towards her, wanting to feel the firm lines of his body flush again hers. One hand reached up, grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging him back to look directly at her. “Stop teasing, Jones.” Brown eyes flashed with demand, her fingers at his waist moving lower until she found the zipper, refusing to break eye contact as she pulled the tab down in one swift motion. Slipping inside, she gently stroked the length of him, enjoying his reaction to her touch. Pride mixed with satisfaction at seeing the normally cool and collected Welshman tremble this time, above her, around her. 

Suddenly she found both hands pinned above her head, a single palm enclosed around her wrists as Charles wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her close, savoring the contact they both craved. “As you wish,” Charles smirked before crushing his mouth to hers.

===============================  
_Carve your name into my bedpost_  
===============================

His bunty was an exceptionally fast learner as she bit his lower lip before slipping in her tongue to deepen the kiss, thinking back to the other lessons that took place well after working hours sometimes well into the early dawn. It was fortunate indeed that it was common knowledge (largely in part of Lucy full-time receptionist and gossip) they carpooled occasionally and none the wiser when they entered the office at the same time. Particularly her father. Although Charles could’ve sworn the frequency of glares coming from Samuel’s office had significantly increased since they had begun their daily and nightly lessons. 

They had agreed it would be best to keep their lessons secret to avoid unwanted attention from their immediate circle. They were seeing each other more so out of convenience, helping Samara overcome her fears and hesitancies regarding physical intimacy. A request, Charles found himself unable to refuse, the image of her, cheeks pinked, ‘But Charles,’ warm brown eyes, sincere and guileless, ‘You are special to me,’ when she made her request. It was the right decision, he reminded himself, an invisible line set in his mind to keep their professional and private lives from intersecting. 

But it was a line that continued to blur, his carefully controlled restraint slipping away when her wrists broke free, momentarily pausing the kiss before she seized him by the lapels of his dinner jacket, lips crashing onto hers once more. The same hands that grabbed his and placed them firmly on her chest, only too happy to give them the attention they were so deprived of. Charles placed kisses along Samara’s jaw and down her neck. Hands fished in his hair as his tongue slid along the hollow above her collarbone while his fingertips slipped under the blue silk, unable to suppress a smirk when he felt only bare skin. He glanced up at Samara, tremendously enjoying how delicious she looked, flushed, breathless and wanting. He paused momentarily until his saw a tiny nod of her head before pushing the fabric aside, exposing her breast to the evening air, but covered just as quickly by the expanse of his hand, arching into his touch.

===============================  
_Cause I don’t want you like a best friend_  
===============================

Sam bit her lower lip, struggling immensely to hold back the moan that threatened to escape as Charles palmed her breast, little sparks flooding her veins as he resumed making lazy circles around her nipple, teasing the hardened bud. ‘If there’s something you’re not comfortable with, Samara, tell me to stop.’ He reassured her, rule number one when they started their evening lessons. And he had always been true to his word. Always. In the beginning, there were moments where she felt too embarrassed to continue (Massive nosebleed in the shower and Charles slipping onto the tiles in his rush to get her a towel was not a proud moment) but those moments were becoming far and few in between. She was, as Charles often told her, a quick learner. 

And she was learning how much she enjoyed seeing Charles, blue eyes thundered, dark and electric, planting kisses further and further down the low cut of her dress. The thought of being caught, being seen in such a compromising position while the party continued, only seemed to heighten her senses, the growing need for this man as he took advantage of their semi-secluded location, fingertips replaced by a familiar tongue, her knees nearly buckling at the sensation of his lips. 

Which ended as abruptly as it began, when the pair heard approaching steps. Charles immediately stood upright, his broad shoulders hiding her smaller figure as he pulled the fabric back into place and Sam adjusted the straps of her dress. A small group of partygoers walked by, completely unaware of the pair hidden by the column, discussing plans of afterparties and weekend brunches. Footsteps receding, Sam sighed and leaned against Charles, the adrenaline starting to wear off. 

===============================  
_Only bought this dress so you could take it off_  
===============================

“T-that was close.” Sam murmured, resting her forearms on his chest, her head tucked under his. The earlier events playing in her mind in quick succession.

“Probably for the best,” Charles brushed a light kiss on the top of her head. “Or else…” He tipped back Sam’s head, somewhat relieved at the playful glimmer in her eyes instead of the usual flushed but pleased look following an…educational experience. “You are beautiful, Samara.” He always said it like it was an absolute truth. An indisputable fact. One she was learning to accept with each passing day. “But tonight, you look ravishing,” He placed a small kiss on her forehead, “Almost good enough to eat.”

===============================  
_There is an indentation, in the shape of you_  
===============================

The familiar blush returned to Sam’s cheeks, but from delight more so than embarrassment. “We should return to the party,” she said almost reluctantly, running her fingers through her slightly mussed hair, checking her lipstick for smudges. Sam was impressed the color didn’t budge, swiping a finger across her lips and seeing none come onto her fingertip. She looked up at Charles, not a streak of red on his face. She was glad to have gone with Monica’s recommendations from the makeup, hair and the dress she lent her. 

_‘I didn’t do much,’ Monica admitted, turning her towards the full-length mirror. ‘I just focused on what was already there.’ Sam was almost in disbelief looking at the image before her, the blue silk flowing down her body, putting the simple black gown she originally picked to shame, her hair in a simple updo, dark red lips, and smoky blue eyeshadow making her brown eyes warmer and brighter. She looked beautiful. She looked devastating. She looked like the kind of woman (no longer the child she used to see in the mirror) who could stand beside Charles as his equal. His partner. “Knock him dead kiddo,” Monica winked when she helped Sam into the limo, Cinderella off to the ball._

===============================  
_Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo_  
===============================

“The gala will be coming to a close soon, so I imagine now would be a good time to take our leave,” Charles offered his arm to Sam who accepted, wrapping her fingers around his forearm. “Besides, as much as beautiful you look in that dress, _annwyl_ ,” He said, playfully nipping her ear, “I would much rather see you without it.”

Sam hummed, warmth spreading to the tips of her toes at the promise of another lesson. She glanced down, quickly remembering one last thing before they emerged from their hiding spot. Sam leaned down to zip up Charles’ dress pants, the last piece of evidence of their earlier activities. “Well then, carry on,” Sam looked up, smiling brilliantly at Charles who felt his heart stumble and fall a couple steps as they stepped back out into the light. 

Together.  
===============================  
_Only bought this dress so you could take it off_  
===============================


End file.
